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Entry no.: 1324
22 Apr 2013, 10:20 AM
Here are a few snapshots from last week in New York.
I wonder how Terry Gilliam managed to gen this one closed to shoot his Fisher King grand ballroom scene.
Something tells me I'll be back.
Entry no.: 1199
26 Dec 2010, 7:25 PM
Did you see the movie Contact?
The Merlion is Singapore's mascot—an imaginary creature with a lion head and a fish body (Singapore's original name—"Singapura"—meaning "lion city").
The Esplanade—I wrote about it two years ago.
I know, the last picture might be too noisy to be published. But—who cares?
Entry no.: 1198
24 Dec 2010, 7:40 PM
The Sands SkyPark is an architectural masterpiece sitting on top of the three hotel towers at Marina Bay Sands, at 200 meters in the sky and the world's largest public cantilevered platform, which overhangs the north tower by 67m.
Yep, those are the 67 meters.
The Sands SkyPark is a 1.2 hectare/12,400 square meters tropical oasis—large enough to park four-and- a-half A380 jumbo jets. As large as three football fields.
At floor 57, housed by The Sands SkyPark, the 150-meter infinity swimming pool is the world’s largest outdoor pool at that height. The SkyPark also boasts rooftop restaurants, nightclubs, gardens hundreds of trees and plants and a public observatory.
The Float at Marina Bay is located on the waters of the Marina Reservoir, in Marina Bay, Singapore.
Made entirely of steel, the floating platform measures 120 meters long and 83 meters wide, which is 5% larger than the soccer field at the National Stadium.
The platform can bear up to 1,070 tones, equivalent to the total weight of 9,000 people, 200 tones of stage props and three 30-tone military vehicles. The gallery at the stadium has a seating capacity of 30,000 people.
Middle-top in the picture is the The Esplanade—I wrote about it two years ago.
Marina Bay Sands is an integrated resort fronting Marina Bay in Singapore, and the world's most expensive standalone casino property at S$8 billion, including cost of the land.
The resort was designed by Moshe Safdie Architects. The local architect of record was Aedas Singapore. The consortium won in a bid were participants were assessed based on four criteria:
Not price? Not shady cheapness, nor friendship with the president—like we assess bidders in Romania? Interesting.
Flower Dome and the Cloud Forest—the two cooled conservatories—in construction at Gardens by the Bay.
Gardens by the Bay is an integral part of a strategy by the Singapore government that further transforms Singapore from a ‘Garden City’ to a ‘City in a Garden’, in which the city is woven into a green and floral tapestry. This aims to raise the quality of life in Singapore with a more holistic and all-encompassing program that enhances greenery and flora in the city.
I like—and respect—this city more and more each day.
With a population of 20 million — as large as Romania's — Shanghai is the most populous city in the world and the economic capital of the world's second (and fastest-growing) major economy.
Moscow lost the cold war — dead. But I be damned if Shanghai doesn't look exactly like in an alternate universe where the Chinese won it.
I'll try a new thing here: one-minute videos instead of plain shots. One minute of nothing special, just life. Consider them "long photos".
If the technical part is getting botched (leave a comment if you can't see it) I'll have to move the stuff to Vimeo or YouTube and embed it back here — that'll take a while. Here is the first one, let's see how this goes.
Have you ever bumped into that ex-lover that you're still in love with?
Do you remember the magic agony—endorphins jumping around like a bunch of frisky kittens messing around with your over-clocked heart—of falling in love again?
I feel that exactly. I'm back in Singapore after 8 years and I'm unavoidably falling for this city. Again.
From the exhibition's program:
Jean Pigozzi, the photographer included in the exhibition title, has been able to cultivate the kind of intensive and intimate relationship with the rich and the famous that is so desperately sought after by the paparazzi at large. Being befriended with many famous people in the international social and cultural scene, he has been making candid portraits of prominent individuals at private locations since the 1970’s. An unusual aspect of his work is his double portrait series Pigozzi & Co. In this ongoing project he appears together with a musician or an actor friend, the two posed with their heads, often touching, in a close-cropped composition. These are images from daily life, in which Pigozzi poses as friend and fan.
There were also some awesome pictures by Newton that I haven't seen before.
In his autobiography Newton wrote that after he saw Federico Fellini’s film La Dolce Vita starring Anita Ekberg, he became interested in the phenomenon of the paparazzi. In 1970 he travelled to Rome to work with “real” paparazzi. As part of a commission for the fashion magazine Linea Italiana, Newton hired a few of them to pose with his models. In Newton’s unconventional approach the photographers were asked to treat the model as if she were a famous person. An interesting aspect of Newton’s work is the combination of multiple real elements, such as the model, the fashion and the paparazzi, on the one hand, with the staging of the photograph on the other.
So. If you are in Berlin and have a couple of hours to spend, pay a visit to the HNF. It's handily placed in Ku'Damm area and beside Newton's works, cameras and props, there are other photo exhibitions, a wonderful bookstore and a Café Einstein ready to provide for that raging caffeine addiction of yours.
But, um, you're not allowed to take pictures.
Entry no.: 527
25 Jul 2008, 12:44 AM
Fleeing the country for the better part of the week seems like a golden idea since in Bucharest hysteria boils as the heavy security measures taken to protect the honchos participating in the 20th NATO Summit effectively paralyze the city and strongly interfere with its moving swarms of anxious inhabitants.
So for the weekend ich bin ein Berliner. Well, ein temporary Berliner, at least.
Don't expect anything other than camera-phone photos because—after eight years—I carry a film camera, again. Analogue. There's no better place to do this.
Planes where business class is exactly the same as coach, seats dwarfed by the dimensions of real human beings, inedible in-flight meals and fare prices that obliviously feed armies of leech companies buying more political support than aviation gasoline.
Refurbished communist hotels run by lazy managers, italian-looking hotels built upon stolen concepts, plain vanilla hotels decorated by blind interior designers and a posh hotel designed by Gustave Eiffel himself were awful music harms the human soul.
Cheap wines, expensive wines, sleepwalking waiters with neon-reflecting eyes, cotton-padded brains and not even the distant memory of a smile.
Leaving Copenhagen (and Denmark) and heading back to Amsterdam, I got to take a few shots on my way.
Windmills, hundreds of them in the countryside — when taking off a sea windmill farm with 20 windmills is visible just outside Copenhagen Harbor. Sorry I could not catch that.
Kastrup International Airport with its mind-boggling teak flooring — "impossibly efficient" as Wallpaper* reviews it. The photo doesn't do it justice, it's the nicest airport I've seen and the flooring gives it a very personal and almost cozy feeling despite its vast dimensions.
The 7845m Øresund Link bridge and tunnel combo joins the Danish capital to southern Sweden.
Now — back in Bucharest.
I thought long and I thought hard about defining the essence of how I perceived Copenhagen, only to realize in the end that summarizing it's not difficult at all. Here it is.
These are pictures were shot on the same day, the first one — through telephoto lens — on the remote bank of the canal, and the other one on my side, and they're suggestive to me because they depict the two ends of Scandinavian — and especially Copenhagen — feeling.
The picture of Copenhagen Opera House reflects my sensation that the place is jammed with bold design, landmark architecture and advanced technology.
This is the country of Peter Bang and Svend Olufsen, of Arne Jacobsen (have a look at his chairs) and Georg Jensen (damn, I irreversibly fell in love with his Koppel Chronograph), of BoConcept, LEGO and, of course, the country of Stimorol, Carlsberg and Tuborg.
There is Illums Bolighus on Amagertorv 10, a four story temple of design houseware, a Danish design crash-course almost as comprehensive as Kunstindustrimuseet and certainly a commercial smash hit.
Speaking of Kunstindustrimuseet (Danish Museum of Art and Design), this is a place so special it deserves a post of its own.
On the other hand, the city manages to remain human, sweet and cozy. No tube, no traffic jams, in a no-hassle metropolitan environment with a population only slightly over the 1 million mark. People are riding their bikes everywhere, but everything is within walking distance in the central area if you are a determined walker. Many places look like holiday resorts, with tiny restaurants and small terraces one next to another, with colorful people and laid-back atmosphere.
There is Tivoli Gardens amusement park, with friendly butterflies and people screaming upside-down and there is Amagertorv, one of Europe's most attractive shopping strips, a sweet, sweet poison for your bank account.
God, I love this place!
If yesterday I came face to face with a rainbow in Amsterdam, today I've met up with a friendly butterfly here in Copenhagen. He was fluffy like a kitten, so I was tempted to pet his back and see if he purrs, but he wouldn't let me.
I have also seen the upside-down people, all screaming in terror and I felt terribly sorry for them. Maybe this is how they punish people around here when they look and act unreasonably normal. Because they do.
Three nights walking the commercial boulevards in Moscow, three nights the horseback riders made their appearance. Girls on horses. Clip clop, clip clop, right on the sidewalks, among the midnight passers-by. On the first night one of them asked me for money — I didn't have any money changed into local currency yet so I gave her nothing. Tough luck.
This all leaves me with a few unanswered questions.
What the hell was that all about, riding horses on downtown Moscow's sidewalks? Are those girls walking their extra-large house-pets at night? Are they elite of tramps, the cavalry of beggars? Noblewomen? Is this posh leisure, green locomotion, fucking coolness, extreme-sport, fashionable eccentricity?
Regardless of what their story might be, the urban riders are — at least for me — part of brand Moscow.
Here's the story. For four days, I've never took a taxicab in Moscow. For four days my guides used the following routine instead: raised a hand towards the cars riding on the first lane of the highway/boulevard/street and a car (often two or even three) stopped. After a very short negotiation we jumped in and we're gone. Money changed hands, relaxed chatter happened between the fronts sits (in Russian) and eventually we were delivered at the destination.
They were not cabs. They were not previously hired rides. It was all kind of paid hitch-hiking!
—It would take 30, maybe 45 minutes for a cab to show up with these traffic jams, they said. And who cares about taxicabs, anyway? We have our own scheme. You can use any car as a taxi. 100% efficient: no phone calls on hold, no waiting. Arm raised, cars stop. Better.
—Well, I replied, every capital has taxis and I never — not ever — seen something like this.
—Yes, but this is Moscow, they replied. This is our way.